"Imagine you're walking in the woods...." she said.
This was my introduction to wakeful meditation a.k.a participatory daydreaming. In my visual imagination I came across a cutting board, sitting there, in the woods. It was plastic, white and very used. Innumerable cuts, scrapes, and slashes left by old knives of all types spread over the main part of the board leaving a one-inch rim of plain white cutting board like a frame around many wounds.
Moved by its odd placement in my dream I left a rose and a thank you note over its cuts then moved on, leaving the squat board where it stood.
This is my soul. she said.
I see the board again. I don't want to take it with me. All that hurt and pain. I cannot carry that with me on this spiritual journey! I am supposed to be weightless when I am spiritual. Happy. Filled with reverence and joy. How am I supposed to carry it with me, anyway?
This is my soul. the one that is hurt. How can a soul be hurt but a body and mind be happy? I thought souls were the part of my 'body' that could never be tainted, scared or hurt in anyway, by shape or form. I had thought things on this physical plane could not touch the soul, no matter how much they made my body hurt or my mind cry.
This is the place of my music. This is what I eat off of. I will eat pain with every bite of love off of this plate. Until I learn to take it with me. When I take it with me, new space will be made for new food. New nourishment.
I re-imagine. I approach the cutting board and put it in my backpack, it shrinks and fits in my pocket. Now wherever I go I have a knife and a cutting board to cut what I will out of any situation. To nourish not only myself but also my family in any situation. To reinvent my life. With my soul, no matter how battered, in my pocket and in my life I am always prepared.
Lesson #2: No matter how spiritual I get, I can't ignore my spiritual baggage.
